All Hell Let Loose_ The World at War 1939-1945 - Max Hastings [6]
At 0200 on 1 September, the Wehrmacht’s 1st Mounted Regiment was among scores roused in its bivouacs by a bugle call – some German units as well as many Polish ones rode horses to battle. The squadrons saddled, mounted, and began to move towards their start line alongside clattering columns of armour, trucks and guns. The order was given: ‘Muzzle caps off! Load! Safety catches on!’ At 0440, the big guns of the old German battleship Schleswig-Holstein, anchored in Danzig harbour for a ‘goodwill visit’, opened fire on the Polish fort at Westerplatte. An hour later, German soldiers tore down crossing poles on the western frontier, opening the way for leading elements of the invasion force to pour forward into Poland. One of its commanders, Gen. Heinz Guderian, soon found himself passing his family’s ancestral estate at Chelmno, where he had been born when it formed part of pre-Versailles Germany. Among his soldiers, twenty-three-year-old Lt. Wilhelm Pruller expressed the euphoria that suffused the army: ‘It’s a wonderful feeling now, to be a German … We’ve crossed the border. Deutschland, Deutschland über alles! The German Wehrmacht is marching! If we look back, or in front of us, or left or right, everywhere the motorised Wehrmacht!’
The Western Allies, heartened by knowledge that Poland boasted the fourth largest army in Europe, anticipated a struggle lasting some months. The defenders deployed 1.3 million men against 1.5 million Germans, with thirty-seven divisions on each side. But the Wehrmacht was far better equipped, having 3,600 armoured vehicles against 750 Polish, 1,929 modern planes against nine hundred obsolete ones. The Polish army had been progressively deploying since March, but had held back from full mobilisation in response to Anglo-French pleas to avoid provoking Hitler. Thus, on 1 September, the defenders were surprised. A Polish diplomat wrote of his people’s attitude: ‘They were united in the will to resist, but without any clear idea about the kind of resistance to be offered, apart from a lot of loose talk about volunteering as “human torpedoes”.’
Ephrahim Bleichman, a sixteen-year-old Jew living in Kamionka, was among thousands of local inhabitants summoned into the town square to be addressed by the mayor: ‘We sang a Polish hymn declaring that Poland was not yet lost, and another promising that no German would spit in our faces.’ Piotr Tarczyski, a twenty-six-year-old factory clerk, had been ill for some weeks before he was mobilised. But when he informed the commanding officer of his artillery battery that he was ailing, the colonel responded with a brisk patriotic speech, ‘and told me he was sure that once I found myself in the saddle I would feel much better’. Equipment was so short that the regiment could not issue Tarczyski with a personal weapon; he did, however, receive a regulation charger, a big horse named ‘Wojak’ – ‘Warrior